


Frozen Fingers and the Taste of Snowflakes

by breadknee



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, I love it so much, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Snowball Fight, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, it's only teen and up because some people hate curses, not really tho, they just know of thanos, this is literally just a snowball fight between the irondad boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadknee/pseuds/breadknee
Summary: Tony Stark hates the cold. Peter tries to change his mind.





	Frozen Fingers and the Taste of Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting while in a dining hall with @losingmymindtonight. It's pure fluff, which isn't like me at all, so you're welcome, bois. Angst coming soon. (:

Usually, Tony avoids the snow like the plague. It’s cold and wet, and it clings to your hand like a bad memory. Pepper says he’s delusional, and Peter frequently teases him when he shakes his whole hand to rid it of the terrible cold. 

“It’s just snow!”

“It’s absolutely disgusting, that’s what it is. Hey, why don’t you pick on someone else? I could tease you about what you’re wearing. What even is that? You look like you were stuffed into a balloon.”

“Not everyone avoids the cold like you, Mr. Stark, so I have to wear a coat that actually keeps me warm.” Tony rolled his eyes. 

The kid was wearing a coat so big it looked like he could fit the entirety of Thanos into it. Not really. You get the joke. What were they called? ‘Bubble coats?’

“Listen,” Tony bickered, shrugging on his thin coat, “not everyone needs to wear a million layers like you. Some of us actually like the cold.”

“You’re lying! You literally just said you hated the cold and it was disgusting.” Peter pulled a hat onto his unruly curls, which were damp from his speedy shower. They were sure to be ruined when he took it off. 

“Did I? I don’t remember that at all.” Peter just flashed him an exasperated look. 

“Can we just go out now, Mr. Stark?” The kid was practically bouncing, shoving his hands into Tony’s abandoned leather gloves. Tony may hate the cold, but he sure wasn’t going to let Peter freeze to death. He shoved his bare hands into his leather jacket’s pockets. 

“Fine, fine. Lead the way, kid.”

..

“How do you not know how to walk on ice, Mr. Stark?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s easy! Just do what I do.”

“Can you shut up, Pete? I know how to walk on ice.”

“Listen, just step where I step.”

“I’m going to take your suit and throw it into the nearest volcano.” Peter had the audacity to look horrified. Tony took a moment to relish the fear on the kid’s face before continuing. “Come on, that suit cost me millions to make. You really think I’m just going to toss it into the nearest volcano?”

“Who knows? Maybe you’re as evil as the papers say,” Peter teased, hopping into a deep pit of snow. Immediate regret filled his face.

“I thought you liked the snow?”

“I do!” Peter trudged out of the pit, frowning at his soaked jeans.

“Sure. Why don’t we jump into the Arctic Sea while we’re at it? Y’know, get really nice and chilled before we realize we hate the snow.” Tony pressed his fingers further into his pockets.

Peter was silent for a few moments. Tony could feel the revenge spinning in the kid’s mind. He turned to Tony, grinning crookedly.

“At least I can walk on ice.”

A snowball hit Peter in the face.

..

This, Tony realized after he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, was an all-out war.

Peter forged a wall of snow to hide behind as he crafted more snowballs. Tony took cover behind the nearest tree, quickly building up a shitty tower of snow to at least shield his body from the merciless onslaught of snowballs.

Peter noticed Tony’s pause and used the free time to assemble a few more snowballs, each of varying sizes. Tony could see the mountain of snow ammunition piled behind Peter’s fortress, and he quickly rolled another ball.

He was going to take out the ammunition first. Then he can work on getting Pete to surrender.

The kid was turned sideways, hurriedly pressing the powdery snow together in a hopeless attempt to get it to stick into a semi-decent snowball. Tony took the moment to build the biggest snowball yet.

Peter was going down.

He quickly smashed together a lumpy, icy snowball and pressed it tightly in his frozen hands. His fingers had gone numb an hour ago, and he was pretty sure they were turning blue, but this was war.

Tony crouched behind his shitty tower and judged the distance. How far can he throw it without Peter blocking it? He saw an opening - Peter had turned to gather fresh snow from an undisturbed mound - and ran with it. He chucked the snowball at the pile of ammunition and rolled to the side, watching from behind the tree.

It hit - dead on.

Peter let out a cry of alarm. “Mr. Stark! That’s cheating!”

“There are no rules in war, kid!” Tony forced his frozen fingers to scoop up more snow. Time for the killing blow.

Peter was hastily crafting more snowballs, his fingers frantically smushing the ice together. “Come on, come on.”

Tony took the chance. He threw his snowball right into the back of Peter’s head.

“Hey!” Peter spun around, brushing the snow from his hat. “That’s not fair, Mr. Stark.”

“The only rule in war, kid, is to win.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any rules?”

“I might’ve lied.”

“You’re a bad mentor.”

“Am I? I didn’t realize. That suit of yours, y’know, is a multimillion-dollar masterpiece-“

“Stop, stop!” Peter threw his hands over his hidden ears. “I don’t wanna know!”

Tony moved to wrap his arm around the kid, leading him back to the Tower. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I know.” Peter elbowed Tony’s stomach with a playful frown. “But I’d rather not know. That’s- it’s a lot of money.”

“Worth it, though.”

“Is it?”

“People want Spider-Man patrolling the streets, and I’m all for giving the people what they want.”

“Sure,” Peter deadpanned.

..

It took an hour for them to get close to warm. Tony’s fingers burned like mad, and Peter looked to have a permanent red nose. He kept scrubbing at it.

“Hey, stop that. You’re gonna rub it off.” Tony nudged Peter with his socked foot, rubbing his fingers together. The kid just rolled his eyes and threw Tony’s legs off the couch so he could rest his head on his mentor’s lap.

“Sorry for dragging you out in the cold. You said you hate it.”

“I don’t. Not anymore.”

Peter rolled over to look up at him. “How? You were complaining a few hours ago you hated snow and ice and-“ Tony pressed a hand over the kid’s mouth.

“Can you stop with the ice jokes? I fell one time.” He removed his hand, instead running it through Peter’s (as assumed) unruly curls. They stuck in tangles.

“And you wouldn’t have if you had listened to what I said.”

“I’m seriously going to toss that suit of yours into the nearest fire pit. Or acid. Something.” Peter stuck his tongue out.

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“Maybe, but you said people wanted Spider-Man.”

“They do. They always do, bud.” Tony’s fingers pulled another knot free from Peter’s curls.

“Okay.” Peter turned to press his red nose into Tony’s abdomen. “What if we caught colds?”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Everyone gets sick.” Tony snorted, not bothering to reply. Peter’s body was falling lax on Tony’s lap. He continued running his fingers through the curls, blinking back the sleepiness that burned his eyes.

Peter drifted off, the fingers on his scalp luring him to sleep. Tony followed soon after, his fingers still caught in the mess of curls atop Peter’s head.

..

“Told you everyone gets sick, Mr. Stark.”

“Shut up and hand me a damn tissue.”

“Or what? Are going to throw my suit into the nearest volcano?”

“Christ, can you just let that go? Give me the tissue before I get snot everywhere.”

“At least I can walk on ice.”

Peter got hit in the face with the nearest pillow.


End file.
